42 Two Sentinels 
One by one the nights departed 
To the land beneath the shadows ; 
Gone were birds and flowers and insects, 
Silent was the piping hyla, 
Sullen seemed the pushing west wind, 
Dark and angry seemed the cloudland. 
Then it was the wayward forests 
Seemed to hear again the message — 
" Fear the days of late November/' 
Night was resting on the heavens, 
Not a star gleamed in the ether. 
Only in the far-off Northland 
Dimly glowed a lurid beacon. 
Burning in the awful passes 
Close by Carrigain the mighty. 
Still the air, and soundless, heavy. 
Phantom vapors mustered quickly. 
Then a distant sound came booming 
From the valley of the Saco, 
Through the vale of singing waters, 
Like a lake, ice-riven, moaning, 
Like the sea in deep rock caverns, 
